I'm not good at everything
And It's about time I realised that.
I’ve always been good at most things I do. I aced tests at school, won awards at competitions (singing, maths, etiquette—you name it), mastered a couple of languages, overperformed in every job I’ve had, built a strong network of people around me, and seem to have got this “life” thing figured out.
Either I’ve been lucky/smart to pick only things I do well in life, or I’ve got an above-average ability in doing-thing-ness. Obviously my big-headed self thinks it’s the latter, but reality is likely a bit more complicated.
This being-good-at-stuff-ness is central to my identity. I pride myself on doing everything well. Not just well, but well. I don’t aim to meet standards; I aim to exceed them. I aim to deliver so high above the standards that I set new standards in the process.1
Always the best…
So when I got my current (dream) job working for one of my favourite authors, I set out to impress with a capital I and multiple exclamation marks. I was hired as a Content and Research Assistant, and as someone who’s never written a single word of academic research my whole life, I poured 100% of my brain and then some into the research summaries I cranked out in those early months.
I didn’t aim to write good research summaries. I aimed to write magnificent research summaries that would impress my boss and everyone in the team. And every time I succeeded (which didn’t do much for my ego). I probably spent way too much time producing those summaries for the purpose they were meant for, but I couldn’t stand not being good at research summaries, so I continued to bury my head in Google Scholars and churn out paragraph after densely cited paragraph.
As my role transitioned into a more generalist one, I was exposed to more and more tasks—many of which completely new to me. I was asked to source social media content, design Instagram posts, use CSS to style posts, create course workbooks, set up monthly webinars…
Each time I’m asked to do something new, I experience a brief period of panic. And then big-headed Val steps in and says, YOU’RE GOING TO ACE THIS. And usually, I do.
Until I don’t
That is—until just this morning when a work message came in with a colleague’s suggestion to collaborate on the webinars so we can go bigger and bolder.
The second I saw her message, I felt a huge relief. YES, I wrote, I’d love to collaborate. Because, you know what, I suck at planning webinars. I’m a logistical thinker. I can get it done. But I’m terrible at coming up with new ideas and proposals for what we can do to keep them fresh and interesting.
Left solely in my hands, our monthly webinars would surely soon languish into stale Q&As that fewer and fewer people attend each month. Why? Because I’m bad at organising them. Plain and simple.
When the role of “webinar master” opened up, I enthusiastically grabbed it with both hands because I was looking for a niche at work, something that would be mine, my little corner where I reigned and made decisions and did important things that I was solely responsible for.
But then each month when the planning actually had to happen, I would feel this low-lying dread. Oh no, another webinar hath cometh. Time to hit the drawing board and think of what I can propose to the team. As the months went by I persisted, determined to be a good webinar master, to continue to impress.
But it was only this morning, thanks to that colleague’s message, that it fully dawned on me that I’m not a good webinar master. And I probably never will be. Because I’m not the right person for the job. I don’t have the creative, entrepreneurial mind for it, nor the required experience. And to become good at it, I’d have to work very, very hard and practically become someone I’m not.
And it was refreshing. It was a relief to realise that. That not only am I not good at it, but that it’s okay that I’m not good at it, that I don’t have to be good at everything I do. I mean, that’s why we have a team, right? To compensate for one another’s weaknesses and complement strengths.
I’m having a call with said colleague this week and I can’t wait to hear all of the wonderful ideas she undoubtedly has for the webinars. Because, unlike me, she has the requisite creative and entrepreneurial mind that’s perfect for the task. And I am so relieved that we’re now working on this together.
What do you think?
Maybe it seems like the most obvious thing to you: that we can’t be good at everything. But I literally only realised this today. I’m glad I got there in the end though and look forward to discovering the many other things I’m not good at. But it’s no fun to do it alone, so let’s do it together.
Tell me, what’s one thing you’re not good at?
Or, if you’re feeling hardcore, what are all of the things you’re not good at? Send a reply, leave a comment, share this with someone who seems to be good at everything.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Photo by Michal Matlon on Unsplash
Yes, you may call me a perfectionist. But I like to think of myself as an efficient perfectionist who doesn’t suffer from perfectionism paralysis.
Before I dig into being good at something or not, I think one thing that helped to transform how I see life is this idea of 'positioning'. I came across it after listening to a Farnham street podcast.
I like to think that certain people who are better or "luckier" have better positioning than me. Their life circumstances allowed them to be ahead. But it doesn't mean we cannot catch up. We can position ourselves in front of the obvious hard work or gaining leverage.
I moved to Taiwan from New York because of love. I didn't give much thought about it and just did it. Reflecting back now, I was technically in a better position in life for "success". I even just got promoted but turned down since I was moving.
But in Taiwan, I needed to learn the language which was very foreign for me or even a not so positive association that prevented me from learning it better. But, overall, it was very difficult. Even doing things that could have been easy if you speak the language, now, everything becomes a list of giant tasks. It's frustrating, it feels like you go backward in life. When you are already feeling a fraud in your own native language, it would be 15x that feeling.
So, I'm the complete opposite of you. I'm always the person that's failing and a disappointment to every corner of my life. But one thing I reflected early on with my wife was the fact that I could turn a negative experience and bring a positive perspective to it. Either through humor, naivety, or an endless optimism to be better and create better changes. It is the same fire that speaks who I am. It's what led me to move to the other side of the world without any relative or knowledge of the language, fearless. It's what got me to become an entrepreneur, writer, and one day impacting billions of people.
I don't know how to do things well. I know how to be on the very bottom, and that gave me the trait for empathy, compassion, patience, and finding ways to help others so they don't feel the pain like me.
I think both being very good and doing well at things, like my wife and you, can have its painful experience in itself. Like the expectations you have for yourself and others have. Finding ways to navigate our emotions and to keep having a northern light to be an ultimate learner would still be the best way to go as we are curious and wonderful creatures.
This has me thinking. Is it true that we can’t be good at everything? Or is it a matter of some things will take considerably more effort or be considerably more taxing than we decide is worth it?